MARCH 2005 RANTS

3-31
Well yesterday, I had some not so nice things to say about hope. Consider that a little tantrum. At the end of the day...I was writing a thank you note to my counselor....rather than being on the phone with her, convincing me to go to the hospital.

Therefore...I think hope rocks...because I did eventually prove exactly how healthy I am. The most I was depressed was for a few hours. But after that...I just wasn't upset...I couldn't get upset. Because I knew in my heart of hearts...I was so healthy, I was better...and that shit happens sometimes.

I had hoped that because I did everything right this year (get the financial hold off by getting loans and paying off everything), that I would be rewarded with getting to register almost on time. But the cold reality became that I did not get what I hoped for due to new school rules.

And I just didn't understand- how I could have done everything right...and still been screwed. What I failed to see, was in reality hope carried me through and proved that I was healing and healthy. Because at the end of the day, my spirits were high and I was in my own room, and not a hospital bed.

I did do everything right...and because of that, I have peace of mind and I can hold my head up high. And that is worth everything I went through.

Bobb even called me at about seven thirty to check on me, and I just laughed...because if she had called me an hour earlier, she might have gotten me crying...but instead I had just gotten off the phone with my boyfriend...and I realized how fine things were. And I told her that...and how I wanted to believe in the irrational thoughts- so of course she kicked the rational thoughts into high gear. The phone call became more about laughs than tears.

And that proved to me that I do have a support system now- a very large one. My favorite prof and I have grown very close, and she was with me every step of the way yesterday. I have friends...I do not have to do this all alone anymore. And that my friends...is enough to make me cry.

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come."
-Anne Lamott

I did show up...and did the right thing...so when I woke up this morning...things were okay. Life is sweet and does go on. I didn't get exactly what I wanted...but some power in the universe made me realize that I didn't need to get what I wanted...I got a much greater gift instead. The gift of knowing I am healed. And the best gift of all...to realize I am not alone anymore.

3-29

3-27
Today is Easter...and one year ago today, plus one day...I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital again. What I didn't know then...was that it would be for the last time and would turn out to be the most healing. It's where they got the meds right- finally getting Lithium, but even more importantly, it's where I found myself.

This year, I am in Florida with my family for a few days for Easter. A stark contrast to last year when my family said I was not their daughter and they left me out to dry. I admit, it is very difficult to be around them right now, because I do remember last year- and how they did not support me. I've tried bringing it up a few times, but they just don't understand. I wish I was at my "home" right now, and around the people that stood by me through my darkest hour. Because I want to talk about it, I want to celebrate living. But I can't do that here because they don't "get it." And that's okay, but I am sad about it.

Anyway...the fact remains now that I made it. I kept on living. Even through recent events when someone sought to bring me down for some unknown reason. I thought about fighting it, but honestly, I felt, the truth will set you free- and it has. I know who I am...and my friends know who I am. The lies were shown to have quite a few flaws...mainly I think because this person underestimated how much I care for others...and how love can always win against hate. I don't hate this person, though people tell me I should. This person has their reasons for their behavior...and basically I don't care. I'm living my life- happy and healthy. I don't go through my days hating or spreading vicious rumors...I go through my days just being me, and trying to help...whether its working with my favorite kiddo's (with autism) or on Second Chances. And just living life- going out with friends, studying, doing fun stuff! If I was out for just myself, I'm sure I wouldn't be doing either of those. Plus, I've met so many people from my website...and I have found such wonderful friendships, it's awesome.

But enough of that. My brothers are down at the pool right now...I love them so much- we have had a great few days together. They truly are the light of my life, I don't know what I would do without them. Though one sad note- my oldest youngest brother found out there was no Easter Bunny this year. However, he made it a point to mention that he DOES believe in Santa- phew! You know that once one of them falls, the rest are not too far behind. He does seem excited to keep it going for my other younger brother, so that is good.

And that's about it for me right now. I'm very tired and in a funny mood. Just hard reflecting on a year ago...and how different things are now. But life and love have prevailed...and that is incredible. Bobb always told me life is sweet...and now I know it and believe in that. I walked through hell to get here...almost ended my journey numerous times...but just kept going. And always will...because life is sweet!

Happy Easter everyone.

3-20
Alright, time for a semi-long post…or maybe I will surprise you and make is short…but that’s dreaming :-) So lately, a lot of good things have been happening. About three weeks ago I saw a sign up for playing Powder Puff football for my dorm…and suddenly Bobb’s voice entered my mind- the times she would tell me to just get involved, do the things I love to do- go for it. So I signed up. And it was such a great decision.

I met some awesome girls from my dorm playing- we were awesome- known as the team with all the heart. We were not as big as other teams- but had no trouble knocking people around and scoring some touchdowns. But what is more- we bonded. And for once…I realized that people liked me for me! Also in the past…I have always been good at athletics, but instead of being liked for that- people hated me. I was one of the start players of this football team- and they loved me for it…they supported me instead of bringing me down. It was awesome…and many of us are good friends now- its incredible really. How healing.

What I remember of the past is that I was always afraid. I was afraid that people wouldn’t like me, so it was easier just to hide away and pretend to be someone I was not (an introvert heh- I am sooo not). But slowly over the last few months I’ve been going out onto new territory…and finding out that people do like me…for just being me. That I am not my illness- that does not need to consume my life. It IS a part of who I am…but it is NOT what defines me. I define who I am…I go out and do the things I love to do…and I just be myself…and the rest falls into place. I never got that before, but I sure as hell do now.

I know a few people have been grappling with the “who am I” question, and it is such an important one. That is the question that very nearly killed me. I’ll never forget when Bobb looked at me and said…you don’t even know what you like. And she was right, I didn’t. So we set out to discover what I like…and ultimately who I was.

And I found myself. I found that I am one hell of a passionate individual. My mom recently commented to me, that she was talking to a friend of hers and was saying what set me apart from so many was that I took a stand on issues and believed in them very deeply, yet I can do so with an open mind. My football team found that out when the opposing team tried some cheat tactics, and I called them out on it- my reaction was priceless…and you know what- it gave my team even more drive and faith- to see me go out on a limb and really hold strong.

I have learned my values within myself…and that has allowed me to become who I was always meant to be. I can fight for the things I believe in- including my family- and I could do that because I have such a strong sense of self.

And I’ll end it here :-) But I have to say…it was Bobb’s undying faith in me that got me here. As I told her, “you didn’t give up on me…and so how could I have given up on myself when someone believed so firmly in me.”

And I believe in you guys…always have and always will. And I hope that can give you strength as well- that Second Chances (the message board) does believe in you- and that is more than me, more than one person- it is all of us.

3-7
There has been so much I wanted to say tonight. Though it came out jumbled, and now I’m attempting to organize it…in between running Mental Health Awareness Week, my job, school and life. But this is important, at least I think so.

I said these words out loud today to myself…I am healed. With an ‘ed’ not an ‘ing.’ It made sense too. It’s surreal sometimes, to think that I am healed, that I did it…I made it. Sometimes I think it’s a joke, that I’m just nuts again. But then I know it is real…because I have people telling me so…I am ending therapy with Bobb…I take my meds that keep me even…I eat, I sleep…I have friends…I have a life. I was recently visiting Sunny, and that’s when I realized I was healed. I was reading some rants out loud to her…because apparently the rants are waaaay better when I read them…something about facial expressions and side comments :-) Hehe. But I’ve gone back over the rants, and well…I have lots to say now. I am going to start with getting help…getting stuck…but not staying in the dark.

 I read a book over break while staying with Sunny, Murphy’s Boy. And being a dumbass, I forgot it at home, but I still remember some of the quotes. At least what they were about. A couple times, the kid talked about how it was easier to stay in the dark, rather than get better. That crazy was easier…as weird as that sounds- I know you all know it.

 I remember the times myself…when it was just easier to not care, to not get up in the morning. To not try and get better. I kept wondering why I should try to get better…when bad stuff kept happening. I wrote this once, ”Please, will somebody tell me who the girl behind the smile is? Who the girl reflected in the mirror is? I just need to find myself in my eyes. I need to know who I am. I had it, I had it for a while...but again it has disappeared...I just couldn't hold on. Why couldn't I hold on? It keeps coming back and bringing my life to a screeching halt. I can't take this anymore. It's ruining the times that are supposed to be good. I just want to be happy...for the first time in my life I want to be the one to be happy. I can't take this Depression anymore. I thought I was strong, but I'm not. If I can make it through this bout...I don't think I can make it through another. It has to stop now, one way or another. That much I'm sure of.”

 It seemed I got glimpses, but never stayed there. I know now what was wrong…but I didn’t while I was going through it. I told Sunny tonight, “we are not given a crystal ball, just hope.” Sure, if I knew what I know now…great! But the fact remains I didn’t. When I started with Bobb…I had no idea where we were going, how close I was to the end and what would happen. But I had done depression over and over again, what did I have to lose by trust her.

 Jamison said it best in her book, ”Most difficult to put into words, but in many ways the essence of everything: He taught me that the road from suicide to life is cold and colder and colder still, but- with steely effort, the grace of God, and an inevitable break in the weather- that I could make it.”

In order to heal- I did some drastic things. I did things I had never done before- I became independent. I told my parents to keep their money, that I would make it on my own. I would NOT give in to guilt trips and manipulations. Week after week my mom tried to hurt me with her words, and week after week Bobb was there to pick up the pieces and give me some worth back. Most of you have followed my story for a number of years and have been there for the trials and tears. Despite having a ‘following’ I walked the path alone. I had no friends and no family. As strange as that sound- that helped to heal me.

I had to tear my family apart to put them back together. And I had to break myself down to finally become who I am. Hard? Oh yes, the hardest thing I will ever have to do for the rest of my life. To let go of my family…despite all the abuse- they are still family…and for a while I had to let go. And in the end…either love would win or it wouldn’t. But I had to know if we had a shot at love- but I couldn’t do that with a foundation of lies. And somehow…somehow…therapy helped me to put my family back together…with a foundation of love, not lies…and on my terms- not theirs.

I was not so different from you all. I laid down some nights and wanted to lay there forever. I wanted to give up, stop trying to heal. Hell even with Bobb, I still went to the hospital four more times…I cut more…I overdosed more. And that was with the best therapist in the world. But you know what? ONE person believe in me…one person willed me to live…and with that kind of firm belief in me and that I had a life to live…how could I not have hope? That is why I send you all to therapy…that is why I try so hard to get you there. Is it worth it? More than words can say.

Yes…Bobb got me back in touch with my feelings and pulled me away from numbness. And because of that, I got angry- very angry. And the rage built…and the feelings built. They showed themselves in all kinds of forms- cutting, suicide, yelling, working to death. But the point was- they were there and I was learning to harness the feelings. So you see…doing all that stuff…I was just in the process of learning to control my feelings- that is what therapy needed to teach me…because I never got that as a child.

I love this quote about therapy, ”But, ineffably, psychotherapy heals. It makes some sense of the confusion, rains in the terrifying thoughts and feelings, returns some control and hope and possibility of learning from it all. Pills cannot, do not, ease one back into reality; they only bring one back headlong, careening, and faster than can be endured at times. Psychotherapy is a sanctuary; it is a battleground; it is a place I have been psychotic, neurotic, elated, confused, and despairing beyond belief. But, always, it is where I have believed-or have learned to believe- that I might someday be able to contend with all of this.”

It says it all there. This is what I wrote to Bobb in a recent letter to her, “Hell...how you managed to piece me back together, I do not know. I was such a broken little girl coming to you with false bravado. I had a false sense of self, haunted eyes and an empty heart- too bruised or broken to feel anything. I was firmly enmeshed in self sabotage and didn’t see any reason to let go of that, no proof that anything else worked. I was a ghost in a brittle body that survived the ravages of war.

And yet…you folded me up into your arms and just began to talk. To offer up perhaps another path on my journey. The one that would not be easy and the one that would require more strength and courage than I knew was in me. But you promised to be there every step of the way and to never let go. And you didn’t. Through all the shit I put you through, you never let go. There were so many times you could have not cared as much as you did…and it was those times that were the most healing. You didn’t give up on me…and so how could I have given up on myself when someone believed so firmly in me.”

 I wanted to give up so many times. I did in fact. I just got lucky and had a few life lines…I did make it to the ER. And as much as I ever wanted to die, I was so full of life. And I had this stubborn hope inside me that never died…that maybe one day, I would live life  instead of survive it.

And then today came. This week came. And I felt peace…I felt hurt…I felt sadness- I felt it all. And it was wonderful. I looked my mother in her eyes and told her I was sexually abused. And felt no shame, only strength.

I say goodbye to therapy in three more sessions. And as hard as you can imagine saying goodbye to Bobb is…I realized that therapy was a remaining symbol of a broken life. A broken life that is not mine anymore. Saying goodbye to therapy is like saying goodbye to my old self. And it is giving me renewed confidence; I realize that I am strong enough to stand on my own two feet, I trust myself to make sound and rational decisions. I trust myself to live.

I have a very strong sense of self now. I know where the blame falls in my life for the shit that happened. I make choices these days…and I accept responsibility for the bad ones and fix it. Life is no longer about life or death…it is just about living. No mistake I make is the end of the world.

I was always afraid of therapy…for what it could unlock or unleash. I thought that I would crush under the terrible feelings that had been mounting all those years. And I thought that being crazy was easier. But when at the end of the road…you realize crazy kept you from living life. Can life be happy when all you’ve known is pain? Can peace come to you at night instead of nightmares? Can you really and truly feel the feelings without flipping out? These are questions that never had answers. Until now. Yes. To all of them. So this is my post for therapy…for getting help- for helping yourself, even if it’s tough. Because it is…finding yourself…healing from such broken pasts…those are life journey’s. But it is worth it. I know that now.

3-7
Today was a major day for me. I guess you could say it is almost the last leg of my healing journey. Or maybe it is. At any rate…the time came for me to discuss the sexual abuse I suffered as a child with my mom. I pretty much knew that she had no idea about the sexual abuse, so this is basically coming from way out there for her. Now, she did severely emotionally and physically abuse me as a child- so not all is well on her side of things either. But to her credit, I never told about the abuse.

So the first thing I did when I got back from Michigan was give her some poems to read. As you all recall, I wrote my mom a letter, just telling her various things- like did you love me even when I was nuts…and where were you when I needed you most. I also sent some poems.

This time however, I made sure the poem, No One Was There, was included. That poem is specifically about being raped…and then Lost Fight is about sexual abuse as well, though masked a bit more. She read it…and there is no other interpretation. So from Friday on, she has suspected, but just had no idea. She told me once, I think on Saturday- I am so scared for what you might tell me…and for what that may mean for our relationship.

So when I thought about it…being scared was on the good side of possible emotions my mom could have with this news. But…I think we were both scared and did not get around to talking about it. Then when I was slated to leave, I was in my room packing and we were dancing around the issue. But…I had enough.

I finally said…mom…what is it that you want to ask me? After reading my poems? Well, she had a weird response…like…’you had sex with someone,’ or something like that. I find it odd…I guess she could not bring herself to say the words. But I just looked her in the eye and said that it was something like that, I was forced…and then I said it, “Mom, I was sexually abused as a child.” Now…if you think about it…those are eight powerful words. I think my mom went into shock. We danced around who it was- she actually thought it was my father- I was like what?!!! No way! We danced around that issue for the next half hour, until I told her. She had no idea it would have been my cousin…and she thought it would have been someone older.

Another problem she had- I told her right before I was supposed to leave…she was thinking she needed hours to talk to me about this. Now, since I’m a therapy graduate (almost), I’m used to heavy talking for an hour then nothing etc. But anyway…I point blank told her that telling her was more for ME than HER. And that I had to wear a happy mask for over ten years…so I did not feel bad that she felt like she would have to wear a mask for a while. That made her quiet and reflective. I think this is the first time she has known me to be so strong and letting her know my needs. Later she did remark…telling me is more for you than for me, isn’t it. I said yes, because it was.

She did ask the dreaded question- why didn’t you tell me. So we got into a bit there- the family situation at the time etc. She took it all in…was defensive at times…but as a whole- nothing like the mother I knew a year ago, or even six months ago. Plus, I held my ground…and would NOT take any blame or shame or any of that. I was the child…the blame lies with the abusers.

A small tangent- we talked on and off about other things too, just my past, but not specifics. She kept seeming to want to tell me “why” she was the way she was or “why” certain things happened. But again, I held my ground and told her simply…the why was not important to me. Everything happened…regardless of why. And I have healed from it- those are questions I don’t need to ask, and answers I don’t need to hear. I think that is the difference between therapy and not going to therapy…for my mom- she still needs that. I don’t…I can let go without that. I think that was hard for her. It was funny…I watched her use CD’s quite a bit ;-) I am going to send her a CD packet, she could use it hehe.

But…at the end of the day…she said that she loved me. And said she believed me and would have believed me then (which hindsight is 20/20, we’ll never know). But the fact remains she didn’t blame me…and she didn’t turn cold on me. And when I drove home tonight, I thought to myself…I have my family back.

And I do on some level. The secrets are out- there are no more. I have a confidence in myself I’ve never had before…that my worth is not based on what my mother thinks….or what other’s think. And it seemed natural to tell my mom now…to begin the last chapter in my healing journey. I find it interesting…that on some level I think I healed my mom as well. Because I changed- I forced her to change…or lose me forever. And though my mom severely abused me…she did not know any better. That is no excuse, and I don’t let her out on that one…but underlying everything…she loved me in her own way. And instead of choosing to lose me forever…she did choose to change with me…and I do give her credit for that. It does restore some worth back into me.

My mom was not there when I needed it most. When I was testing the rope to hang myself…I was alone. And as I clung to life again and again, she was no where to be found. She even told me once, that I was not her daughter. For 21 years she hurt me more than she ever helped me. Yet, somehow I always loved her…and I couldn’t give up. I swear- I tried to give up on her…but a longing for a mother never goes away. And at one point…I did resign myself to live with such a hole…and I think I could have. And that was the turning point I think for both of us. At some point she realized too, that I was not giving up. And that I was a force to reckon with.

Do I forgive her now? No, I haven’t. Will I? I can’t say for sure. But I know that my future with her does not need to be based on the past. I don’t need to drudge it up…because that is what I spent the last two and a half years doing. And I’m okay…I ‘get it.’ And that allows me have a relationship with her.

We are rediscovering each other- building our relationship out of love…not because we have to, or out of guilt or lies…but love. Did I get my family back? Yeah…I did. How? Hope.

I never thought it was possible- and I mean never. I thought…this was it…family would always be this hole…this thing I would never get. But something can be said for hope…faith…and love. And of course…being one hell of a stubborn ‘nut.’ Glad I always had that going for me :-)

And that’s my story…guess it’s time for the epilogue soon. My final secret, sexual abuse, is out in the open. I no longer hide from it and I have conquered that monster. And as I drove home…these lyrics made all the sense in the world, and I will close with them:

“And the best ones were the ones I got to keep as I grew strong,
And the days that opened up until my whole life could belong,
And now I'm getting the answers, when I don't need them anymore,
I'm finding the pictures, and I finally know what I kept them for,
I remember, I can see them, see them smiling, see them stuck,
See them try, I wish them luck and all the blessings."

”It’s not a release, not a reward, it’s the blessings,
It’s the gift of what you notice more”